


Relax — this won't hurt

by Mikhailov



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Aggressive kissing, Also an idiot, Angry Kissing, Banter, Bickering, Commie's dealing with feelings, Cutesy, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Healing, How Do I Tag This, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots, Kinda?, Kissing, Knife Wounds, Light Angst, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Minor Injuries, Nazi is a shithead, Somewhat, Somewhat domestic life, Taking care of the others, Those are some fun tags aren't they, Treating Wounds, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Wounds, but not really, emotionally constipated, it's ehhhh, not really tho, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikhailov/pseuds/Mikhailov
Summary: “It's nothing, Commie. Some asshole jumped me.” He replies.“And is this asshole still with us?” He asks with a small smile, he gently wiped some dried blood from Nazi's cheek. Nazi huffs.“Funny.”~~~Commie has to take care of an injured Nazi
Relationships: Authrigh/Authleft, authunity
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	Relax — this won't hurt

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot write angst and sad shit for the life of me, so take some authunity 'fluff' healing wounds fic woo,,
> 
> honestly, I tried, just take this
> 
> A huge thank you to my dearest friend Drew for beta reading this!  
> And as always! Russian translations are at the bottom!

“ _You_ ," he said, voice brimming with annoyance, "are a _fucking_ idiot.”

“So nothing new then?”

“Shut the fuck and sit down. Keep your eyes open and do _not_ touch your wounds.”

“You’re bossy today.” He frowns.

“You’re bleeding out!”

“Alright, alright I’m sitting, you don’t have to keep yelling, although admittedly, I quite like hearing you raise your voice, you’re normally so very good at keeping calm.” He yawns, his voice is soft and far too teasing for someone bleeding out from a variety of different cuts. Thankfully, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and crosses his legs, he folds his hands over his lap. He pretends not to notice what the man said, pretends that it doesn't raise heat to his cheeks. 

Annoyingly, even bruised and bloodied, the man looks like he's quite composed. His body betrays him, however. His hands are shaking, his eyes are glassy and constantly darting around the room, he's bouncing his leg in a way to keep himself awake. They both know that if he closes his eyes, or loses consciousness, things won't end well. Quickly, he gathers all the medical supplies he keeps in his room. He keeps them hidden from sight, not needing people to question why he keeps them in his own room.

Maybe “bleeding out” isn't the proper term. He's not _dying_ , but he very well could be if his injuries go unchecked. He drops the first aid box at his feet and shrugs off his coat, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows. Once he's done all that, he turns his attention to the man currently sitting on his bed. His eyes are getting glassy, distant.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” He snaps his fingers, narrowing his own eyes and with a flinch, the other man is back to reality.

“Right,” he starts, he grabs a cotton pad and some rubbing alcohol. He takes a knee before the man and sighs, heavy and tired. " How did this happen, Nazi?” He asks. Nazi looks away, narrowing his eyes. After a moment, he holds out his hand, so he can take it and clean off the first cut, this one isn't too deep, so he's not too worried about it.

“It's nothing, Commie. Some asshole jumped me.” He replies.

“And is this asshole still with us?” He asks with a small smile, he gently wiped some dried blood from Nazi's cheek. Nazi huffs.

“Funny.”

“I wouldn't put it past you, I would say he deserved it unless you provoked him.” He hums, frowning when Nazi makes a face and hisses as he quickly swipes the cotton pad over the cut. Nazi grimaced, features twisting in discomfort, clearly fighting the urge to cross his arms. He doesn't have to worry about the cut on his hand, it'll cause a small scar, but he should be fine. He turns Nazi's hand over, to assess the wound on his forearm, and winces. It's not big, but it looks deep.

“I didn't provoke him, he was just an asshole with a knife,” he sneers and looks away. “And _maybe_ , even if I was being a dickhead, it's hardly my fault. I didn't know he had a goddamn knife on him, and he didn't have to use it.” He complains, Commie sighs and shakes his head. He takes his forearm, wiping away the dried blood there and being careful before he moves to clean the wound, this one might have to be stitched up. Sighing, he reaches into the first aid kit, pulling out some thread and a needle, and putting them aside for the moment.

Nazi frowns.

“You'll be fine.” He says. He catches Nazi's eyes and for the first time in all the years he's known him, he sees fear in his eyes. In any other normal circumstance, he would have mocked the man for it, but instead, he gives the man a soft look and holds out his hands. “I'm here to help. Besides, when have I ever hurt you?” He croons. Nazi stares at him blankly for a moment before he chuckles.

“Would you like a list?” He must be feeling even a little better because the condescending air to his voice has returned in full force. Commie takes this as a good sign. He moves back to cleaning the wound, making sure it won't get the chance to get infected. Then, moving to the needle and thread, he makes sure those are both clean too and ties the thread. He looks up at Nazi only to find him already watching him. His features soften.

“It shouldn't hurt too much, just the sting of the initial piercing, but tell me if it hurts, _Ладно_?”

“Okay.” His voice is far too quiet, almost timid, but he pays it no mind as he starts closing the wound. To his credit, Nazi takes the stitching very well. His breath hitches when he pierces the skin, but he stays otherwise quiet, only making faces. He's stressed about it, however, Commie can feel his pulse pounding under his fingers. His other hand is gripping the bedsheets behind him so tightly his knuckles are white. He slows the pace at which he's stitching so Nazi might be a little more comfortable.

“There,” he says once he's done, he looks back up at Nazi and leans back on his haunches to drop the needle back into the first aid kit. “That wasn't so bad, _Да_? And I know you might call this overkill, but I'm going to bandage that wound because I know you have a tendency to pick at scars.” He adds, leaning down to grab the bandages. Nazi makes a sound he can't quite describe but doesn't protest, he knows that he's right when it comes to picking at scars.

Bandaging the wound is a lot tenser because Nazi's pulse is still pounding despite the fact that he's not getting stitched up anymore. His face is also flushed but Commie's not entirely sure why. He ties the bandage tightly so that it will stay on but won’t be too tight, and then he looks once more back up at the other man. The man's pounding pulse is making his own heart race.

“You’re lucky most of these were only slashes and not stabs.” He starts as he moves to pack everything up, Most of the other scars are thin surface wounds, scratches that will heal and fade quickly enough. Nazi heaves a long, shuddering breath and that breaks at the end and Commie’s head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide when he notices the wound on his neck. His heart _sinks_. He doesn’t know how he could have possibly missed it before, but his full attention is on it now. He reaches up, gently cupping Nazi’s chin and pushing it to the side, this way, he can see the slash. While not deep, it’s not a small scar and it’s on the other man’s neck, which is… fairly worrying.

“Nazi, what the _fuck_.” He says with a shocked, breathless laugh, unbelieving of what he’s seeing.

“I didn’t think it would be a problem,” Nazi admits, he looks sorry about that but Commie still has to hold back from smacking him. “ _Look_ , it didn’t hurt earlier, it felt more as if it was pounding, I thought it would fade away!” He says with a sneer, upper lip curling up as he scowls. Commie holds his hands up and looks away.

“Can I take a look at it?” 

Nazi looks shocked at how quiet his voice had been, staring at Commie with comically large eyes, as if he hadn’t known Commie could speak that softly. He nods, swallowing hard and turns his head away so that the wound is fully visible. 

“Thank you.” He whispers and then he starts assessing the wound. Letting back a sigh of relief he hadn't known he was holding he nods to himself as he does so. The wound is not nearly as bad as he had first thought, but it’s in too risky a place to stitch. He bites his lip and gently pushes Nazi’s chin up so he’s looking at the ceiling, Nazi makes a small sound of discomfort. 

“I’ll be gentle, alright?” He promises softly.

“Okay.”

Commie can’t remember the last time he was so gentle while handling _anything_ , much less a wound. He keeps his touches soft, but he presses down when he needs to clean the dried blood and the dirt (how he got dirt near the wound, he does not know). He cleans the wound carefully, and gently, stopping any time Nazi makes a face. He hadn’t been worried about the other scars, knowing they would not hurt him too much, but this one could prove dangerous. Once it’s clean, he sits back.

“Why are you being so gentle?” Nazi asks, his voice is still a touch softer than it normally is.

“I can’t let my fellow extremists die, can I?” He muses even though he’s lying. He doesn’t care enough about Ancap to save him if he were in this situation, and it varies with Ancom. But he's willing to help Nazi. Nazi agrees with most of his ideas, takes his side during most arguments, but he also likes being around the other man. He’s infuriating in the best way. He drives him up the wall, annoys him on the best days, makes him want to punch him on the worst days, but he really does enjoy hanging around the man. Sometimes when he hangs with Nazi, they don’t need to speak. They can sit in silence for hours, both scrolling through their phones or sharing a bottle of vodka or wine.

He very much hates seeing the man bloodied and injured. It raises a wave of anger inside him.

“I’m not going to stitch this one, it’s far too risky, so I’m going to apply gauze and then secure it, alright?” He asks gently, Nazi nods. “Just remember to not turn your head too quickly.”

He works in silence until he’s finished, and then he applies the gauze, making sure it’s not uncomfortable. Nazi stays quiet the entire time, fiddling with his thumbs. Finally, he leans back one final time, shoving all the supplies into the first aid kit, he’ll sort it out later, and then he moves to just sit on the floor and leans his head back, he closes his eyes. Nazi says nothing.

When he opens his eyes, he finds Nazi’s staring back at him. His breath hitches and his eyes go wide. He stares back at Nazi as the man steps away, smirking. He waits for Commie to stand. Commie clears his throat, looking away.

“You should probably go back to your room to rest.” He murmurs.

“Right… um, thank you for patching me up,” he says, Commie looks down, nodding and when he doesn’t reply, Nazi steps forwards, he grabs the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to kiss him. Commie’s eyes go wide. By all means, it’s a _very_ clumsy kiss, all teeth and tongues but neither of them seem to care. Commie lets Nazi push him against the wall, and he brings his hands up to cup his cheeks and kiss him deeper. When he does that, however, Nazi pulls away, smiling that shit-eating smile he hates so much and blinks a few times. Commie stares at him, eyes wide.

"What was that?" He whispers.

“A thank you," he hums, and then looks away. "I should probably go rest.” He whispers, smiling gently.

It takes him a moment to find his voice. “Y- yeah.” He croaks. Nazi hums, tilting his head and he nods. The bastards and teasing him, he knows it. He turns on his heels, opening the door. He gives Commie a wink and then slips out with a “Bye, bye now!” and then he’s gone. He leans against the wall, moving to sit down, and he rubs his temples.

“Jesus fuck.” He laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, questions, concerns?  
> Leave me some! I'm always open to feedback!
> 
> ~~~  
> "Ладно?" - "okay?"  
> "Да?" - "yeah"


End file.
